Tommy:
I wasn’t trying to cause trouble this time. I mean it. I was planning to get in, play the part, and get out with fifteen grand in my pocket — more money than I’ve ever seen in my life.
All I had to do was act like the doting boyfriend of a shy, anxiety-riddled young socialite; easy money.
Okay, yeah, she’s the niece of a rumored Russian bratva boss, but the gig was only for one week.
Just long enough for us to convince her cheating ex that she’s over him and not ashamed of how he humiliated her. One week of living in a mansion like a king, then I get paid and get out.
I might even have fun.
Then her uncle shows up.
Young-gi Sokolov has eyes like an X-ray machine — I swear to God he sees right through to my guts, right to my bones.
He sees more of me than anyone was ever supposed to, and I keep playing right into his stupidly big, strong hands.
Losing my mind and acting like a fucking child? Check. Looking for trouble I shouldn’t, because I can’t take being alone with my thoughts? Check. Pushing every button Young-gi has?
Trying to find the one that proves he’s just like everyone else? The button that proves he’ll toss me out when he’s bored, same as they all do? Check, check, check.
But every time I push, he handles me like he’s read my fucking user manual. Puts me in my place, straightens me out, and then helps me straighten up.
Does shit to me that messes with my head — things I never knew I’d love to hate. Really toppy, Daddy-type shit I never expected to hit me just right.
And before I know it, I’m starting to kind of… need it.
But I know how this ends. People like me don’t get kept. Not for long.
And if he thinks he can get me to fall for him, behave for him, or be good for him just because he looks at me like I’m the only good thing in the world — well…
He can fucking try…. Please.
A high spice Daddy romance – high on the daddy, low on the mafia stuff.
